


A Quiet Day In

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Anal Sex, Domestic, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 07:18:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13585050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: A miserable day outside leads to a beautiful day inside.





	A Quiet Day In

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GuixonLove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuixonLove/gifts).



The weather outside was properly miserable. Cold and sleeting, the sort of weather not fit for man or beast. A day when I was grateful for a warm fire to soothe my aching knee, a comfortable chair, and that there was no case to occupy my companion's mind or lead us to leaving our rooms. 

Holmes had spent much of the morning preoccupied with some experiment or other, but had abandoned it at present to perch in his own chair, grumbling about humidity. I had a book, but I was also keenly aware of his gaze and the mischief in his eyes.

He moved from his own chair to sit on the arm of mine. “I daresay we will not have any visitors today,” he announced.

“I pray you are right,” said I, setting my book aside, and wrapping my arms around his waist so that I could tug him into my lap.

With a smile, he leaned in to kiss me, a proposition I eagerly returned. 

His slender hands came to rest on my shoulders and we spent several long minutes exchanging the simplest of affections. The weight of him was warm, any slight discomfort I felt mitigated by the growing pleasure between us.

Of course, Holmes made the next move, dropping his hands to open my trousers. I shifted him slightly to give him room, still sipping sweet kisses from his lips. I only stopped as he took my girth in hand, panting softly as I rest my head against his shoulder.

“I know the odds of a visitor are low, but perhaps we should move to a location besides the front room,” I said as delicately as I could, not wanting to put him off.

He ducked his own head and nipped at my throat. “You are right, of course,” he acknowledged. Late at night was one thing, in the middle of the afternoon was another.

Holmes slipped from my grasp and took my hand, leading me towards our rooms. I took control as we reached the threshold, laying him back in his bed and kissing him again. 

He smiled into my kiss, sighing happily as he ran fingers through my hair. “I cannot find fault with the weather if it sends me into your arms.”

“Nor I,” I answered, taking a moment to study his familiar features, creased by a comfortable smile. His desire pressed against me, but there was no sense of urgency. I lived for these times when I could feast upon him and take my time without fear of interruption.

I reverently stripped him naked, kissing his skin as it was exposed to me. The rain against the window gave us a steady beat while my hands caressed his bare body.

“My turn, Watson,” he said, sitting up to remove my clothes in turn.

I shivered in the cool air of the room, my knee giving a twinge. Holmes nudged me onto my back, straddling my thighs and making his own study of my features. Tilting forward, his lips slid over me, marking every scar and imperfection and making them beautiful.

I smoothed my hands over his shoulders, content to watch him. He moved further down my body, one hand wrapping around my cock. I groaned and closed my eyes, eagerly anticipating his mouth.

Holmes wouldn’t deny me such pleasures and I flushed with the warm, wet heat of him. He was well versed in this, being as quick a study in the arts of pleasure as in everything else he put his mind to. I blindly tangled my hand in his hair, giving a light tug and earning a moan that reverberated down my shaft.

I looked down at him. “My dear Holmes,” I murmured, as close as I dared get to the words in my heart.

He met my gaze and I was nearly undone. Raising his head, he seized me in a passionate kiss. I wrapped him in my arms and opened my mouth to him, heart aching.

He rutted against my hip, perhaps not even entirely intentionally. I rolled us over, taking us both in hand and giving a stroke.

“Please,” he gasped.

I knew what he wished and I got up only long enough to retrieve the oil we used for this purpose. I kissed him as my fingers pressed into him, needing to take as much as he needed to be taken.

His hands slid down my broad back and he muffled his moans against my shoulder. I should have liked to have shielded him from the world forever, but we both knew that was not to be. Holmes spread his legs wide for me, a perfect picture of desire.

Judging him ready, I coated myself and pushed in. His hands grasped at my arms, encouraging me. “I have you,” I promised, in this and always.

We fell into a comfortable rhythm, his cock finding friction against my stomach. I knew it was not enough and shifted so that I could take him in hand. He arched up and came, again muffling his cries against my shoulder. 

“Beautiful,” I murmured, finding his lips and kissing him softly as I picked up speed. I felt him smile at the sentiment, running fingers through my hair.

I could not hold back under such sweet tenderness and followed him into bliss. He held me as I spilled into him, supremely satisfied, going by the look in his eyes when I opened my own again.

Carefully, I pulled out and quickly cleaned him up before climbing back into bed. Holmes tugged the blankets over us and we lay side by side, talking quietly and stealing kisses as the afternoon wore on.

Finally, I kissed his temple. “We need to get dressed. Mrs. Hudson will be up for supper soon.”

“Right as usual,” said Holmes, stretching like a cat. I knew he was as loath to leave the comfort of bed as I was, but I heaved myself up and reached for my clothes.

By the time Mrs. Hudson brought up supper we were both perfectly arranged, not a hair out of place. Supper itself was interrupted by a client, looking just as miserable as the weather, but that in itself is a story for another time.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr and twitter at merindab


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